An Eventful Evening
by TheGreySpecies
Summary: A drab evening - at least, from James's perspective - brought twain unexpected souls together. One from a wealthy historical background, and the other simple in her own regal manner. - James/Lily. Oneshot.
1. Chapter 1

**An Eventful Evening: Oneshot**

**Disclaimer**: I do nut own Hawwy or anyone related. In fact, I don't own anyone at all, at least, dun think so.

Hi, another Marauder ficlet.

Enjoy.

Side Note: Everyone is **Muggle** in this fic. Dun ask why, please, just leave me to my imagination, 'kay? 'Kay. Thank you.

* * *

In midst of vast, extensive floral lands, the aristocratic folks of the country resided, with a superstitious notion that merriment rooted from riches. These conservative folks were exceptionally loyal to their inheritance, and despite their traditional views, they stunned the threshold to the country's popularity.

However, they paid this act little value. These wealthy folks were naïve to the aspect that a flawless life couldn't be achieved. Instead of mourning in that dismal notion, the aristocrats felt compelled to refute that statement by constructing a groundhog's home beneath their heavy riches. They drank, they cheered, they celebrated; "soirée" was certainly worthy and fancy diction to delineate these particular events.

Inside the Meadowes' stately home, a light, carefree atmosphere streamed into the outdoors as others swarmed in. Some folks entered with inamoratas on their arms, some with their respectful families, and others requesting exchanges for a blunt nose instead of a sharp one. However, only the worthy blended with this scene.

As the honeycomb allured the presence of the swarm of bees, laughter could be heard, clinks of glasses, and shuffle of feet and boots. The wealth of the occupants were accentuated with their elegant attire. The generous amount of women present wore sophisticated wear, with intricate designs: a scarf around their shoulders, their dresses veiling their thorny heels, and the corsets thinning their breaths.

The men, however, were as simple as always. Nearly every man wore the same clothing, with plain white dress shirts, black trousers, and a robe that ended to their knees, emphasizing their refinement. While the women were austere and passionate about their outward appearance, the men were laidback. Consequently, there were others that were especially distinct in midst of firm appearances.

Indeed, a messy-haired young lad was rudely tromping towards the ballroom, earning distasteful looks from bystanders, but he paid them no mind. He was occupied with vilifying his mate's every existence; somehow, Sirius had managed to cajole him into accompanying his parents to this wretched party, promising that he, himself, would be there to entertain, but half an hour had passed, and the devil had yet to be revealed. Meanwhile, James cursed his mate's flawless manipulation skills.

Thus, James maintained a sour countenance as he entered the uninviting ballroom; he resolutely refused to humor a companion to the floor, not that he had intended. He sulkily occupied himself with circling the vast room, observing the room in vacant hopes that he'll find something – or someone – worth his time, at least until this foul party concluded.

"James?" A deep voice greeted James's ears, and he welcomed the sound as he turned to face his father with the gloomy aura still intact. Charles smiled. "Enjoying the party so far?"

"No."

His father elicited a booming laugh. "It is dull, isn't it?" James nodded, fiddling with the sleeve of his robes, looking akin to a child despite his coming of age. "Just do it for Mum, wouldn't you? You know how she is with these type of affairs."

James glanced towards the doors, spotting his mother lively chatting and greeting anyone who passed. "I know." James mumbled and sighed as his father placed a firm hand on his shoulder and swept away, leaving James to resume his place as the professor of misery.

Indeed, he resumed his pace, glancing disinterestedly around the room. After a while, twain creatures – too gallant to be called human – approached him with the insinuation that he would ask them to dance. He, in turn, deciding to accompany his shadow, left them downcast, feeling exceptionally proud of himself for his achievement.

Honestly, they were all the same, the same obnoxious manner, the same dresses, the same personalities, the same pretension. They were so similar in the particular aspects: they all desired wealth, a house, and a man. They all enjoyed parties, fashion, and money. He wanted one that was different, at least in the smallest aspect. At least from surface level.

And he found one – impulsively; he applauded his astute intuition.

He halted in mid-step, reaching a sitting area where tables were dispersed, wine was distributed, and food was gifted. At one of the tables, however, an exotic creature – accompanied by loneliness itself – sat with her hand supporting her chin, peering dully towards the room. James's heart danced as his eyes studied the strange creature, an endearing creature.

He wondered if he had spotted a flower in the grass.

Surely his mind had just witnessed the devil himself, for he had never been as intrigued, his mind surrendering its subtle rationality to a wicked demon. He had never seen such a sanguine hue, but it was there, tucked in a graceful manner, with spiraling, elegant locks framing the creatures fragile features. The owner to these locks bore a fair complexion, an elegant tint to her hair, but the one aspect that intrigued James, was the dispassionate expression she bore as she studied the room; James intuited that she was a reticent person as she didn't seem inclined to join in with the scandalmongers in the room.

Choosing to take advantage of this particular trait, his vacant mind coaxed his feet into implementation, and he maneuvered 'round the various tables, heedlessly disregarding his stumbling into a table, spilling wine on an unlucky man. Reaching the strange specimen, he felt his lungs short of oxygen.

Without an invitation (the girl still hadn't noticed), he promptly drew a chair beside her, and helped himself to a conversation. Hearing the sound of a groaning chair, the girl glanced surreptitiously towards the sound, her eyes immediately zooming to the suspect's hair. She blinked as the owner leaned his arms on the table, tilted his head, and smiled charmingly at her.

"Hello," he breathed softly, entranced. When she turned her head, her disinterested expression fused into slight confusion and suspicion. However, James's breath caught when he met a pair of almond-shaped bright green eyes. Their hue resembled that of a toad.

"Hello . . .?" she responded, civilly and politely, only her narrowed eyes expressing her suspicion as to why he was here, not that she had ever seen him before. "Can I help you?"

James, however, grinned. Yes, this was certainly his type. Not too polite, and not too rude.

"Haven't seen you around before," James's tone dripped in curiosity. He was sure he had never seen such a sight. "Are you new here?"

The girl's reticence was clear, for her features remained stoic when she responded, her eyes flickering down to her twiddling thumbs. "Yes," she said, her dull eyes roamed around the room. "My friend, Dorcas, hosts the party. My father thought it'd be rude if I missed it."

"And he's absolutely right," James affirmed firmly, irresistibly thinking that she wouldn't be here if she had refused. However, when the girl raised an auburn eyebrow questionably, he scrambled to distract her from his idiocy. "Where is this father of yours, anyway?"

She turned to scan the room. "He should be around here – somewhere," she muttered absentmindedly. "Both my parents are, actually."

"My parents, too," James said, inadvertently grimacing at the thought. He internally kicked himself when she caught sight of the look, but – to his relief – she smiled amusedly, and James couldn't help but admire how pretty she looked.

"Not very festive, are you?" she asked, her eyes twinkling with amusement; James, in turn, shook his head in honesty, his hair splashing onto his glasses. In response, he roughly pushed the locks away. Resting his chin on his hand, he continued to converse with her, and – unbeknownst to her – admire her elegant features.

"I get it from my dad," he mumbled, feeling a strange purr in his chest when she chuckled; grace was apparent in her posture, speech, and manners. "He doesn't like parties much, either."

"Of course," she said seriously, and James was too absorbed in his state of admiration to fully register her next statement. "Let's blame all our flaws on our parents, shall we? Then we can be credited for our perfection."

He blinked as she rolled her eyes, and when he finally registered her words, he smirked helplessly. "Exactly," he said pretentiously, sitting up to stretch. The girl looked at him in astounded disbelief, and a twinge of admiration as well, "I am perfection personified, my dear, I trust you know."

The girl shook her head and sighed exasperatedly as she reoccupied herself with the scene, reverting her gaze to the clouds, and James frowned heavily when a predicament dawned on him.

He knew it was discourteous to ask, but he wasn't apt to be polite. "You haven't any suitors," James muttered, turning towards the girl, who was glancing at him from the corner of her eyes, her countenance one of piqued interest. "Have you?"

"Suitors?" she asked, removing her hand from her chin to fold them on the surface of the table; she merely looked on with a frown. "For what?"

"For marriage."

She looked stunned. "Er – no," she breathed softly, a light pink hue rushing to her cheek; in her timidity, she tugged a lock back into its bun as she continued, timidity apparent from the way she ducked her head. "No, I don't – I don't _think _so."

James, however, struggled to translate his shock into words. Who wouldn't want to marry someone like her? "None? Are you sure?" She gave him a strange look, a look reminiscent to the one his mother gave his father when his father said something that annoyed her, and he couldn't resist his grin.

"My family isn't of the rich bunch, you know," she stated obviously, tugging on the sleeve of her white dress while grimacing at the thought of her parents being rich. "I can choose whomever I want to marry, as long as he's well-suited."

He frowned as he eyed how uncomfortable she looked. "What's your family name, then?"

"Evans."

"Evans?" James echoed, a distant look apparent on his features as he mentally sifted through the list of family names; he hummed as he reached a metal barrier. "That's strange."

She half-shrugged in response, a troubling thought crossing her mind, but she was wary of the answer. "D'you – I mean – do you . . . have any suitors?" She bit her lip when he grimaced.

"Unfortunately," James sighed, stuffing his fists into the security of his pockets, watching the scene with cool eyes, but when he caught sight of her poorly concealed apprehensive gaze, he grew skeptical about her intentions with the question; he decided to humor her into deciphering her thoughts. "But they're easy to turn away, especially if you're willing to disappoint."

James mulled over his interpretations with the question when she eyed him skeptically.

"Er – are you?"

Impervious to her dilemma, James raised his eyebrows smartly. "Pardon? I think I've just been insulted." He placed a hand on his heart, exaggerating the situation in a somewhat humorous manner.

The girl, however, didn't appreciate the comment the slightest.

"I think I've just been rewarded," she muttered disapprovingly, and James grinned at the statement. She, in turn, peered hesitantly at him before, despite herself, her curiosity overruled her moral not to pry. "But honestly, don't you feel for them when you turn them away?" and James snapped his head in surprise, "I mean, what if they're genuine?"

James was stunned speechless. His eyes widened at her apparent sensitivity and her compassion for others. He had never thought that turning anyone down was hurtful, he had just done it out of habit. He studied her strangely, scrutinizing her, memorizing the crease in her brow, implying her hesitance and timidity, her twisted lip – her resolute eyes, depicting her deepest felt secrets, was the main cause for James's affirmation for love.

"Evans," he started slowly, attentively choosing his words, "I should tell you: they're mere strangers," her eyebrows furrowed as she opened her mouth to interpose, but James immediately cut her off with a mere raise of his hand. "I haven't a chance to know them – at all."

She bit her lip timidly, but nevertheless, she was determined to introduce alternate views. "You could, if you gave them the chance." She stated this as firmly and resolutely as she could, and James, feeling overwhelmed, felt an enigmatic smile crawl up his lips, and he didn't even notice.

"Well," James started quietly, a smile ever-present on his mischievous countenance, "I gave you a chance, didn't I? So if you're willing . . ." he stood up with an outstretched hand towards her, watching as her exquisite eyes widened in astonishment, and with apparent timidity, she slid her hand into his, permitting him to lead her to the floor while endeavoring to collect her thoughts.

"It's strange," she chuckled softly, earning a questioning stare from James; she peered up at him with a twist of her lips, "I don't even know your name."

James smiled as he twirled her and shrugged indifferently. "It's not important." He averted his eyes away from a moment as he pondered what her reaction would be if he had unraveled that he was the heir of an exaggeratedly wealthy family. He hoped she wouldn't take advantage of that fact, and if she did, he certainly wouldn't like to witness it personally.

"Not important?" the girl emphasized in astonishment, and James snapped his eyes back to his partner. "My father would behead me if he sees me dancing with a stranger."

He raised his eyebrows at her exaggerated comment. Reaching towards her neck, he playfully nudged a loose auburn lock in an attempt to emphasize his point. "Hmm, your head seems to be intact," she chuckled as she batted his hand away, "I reckon it's safe."

The corner of her crinkled with humor as she rolled her eyes.

"How optimistic."

He ignored her comment. "And besides," he stated obviously, a roguish smirk gracing his features. "I'm no stranger."

"No?"

"Not the slightest," he affirmed charmingly, feeling exceptionally pretentious with the childish interest apparent on her features; he felt like the host of an affair. "Actually, we were born from the same star."

She hummed as her eyes twinkled in mirth. "Really?" she asked interestingly, feigning a thoughtful look. "So we're virtual siblings, then, are we?"

He sighed and pouted childishly.

"I was trying to sound clever, Evans."

"Well, let me humor you, shall I?" she said as she walked away from the flock of partners, leaving James bewildered as he followed her. He found her with her hands folded behind her. "In my case, I was born from the seed of a root."

"A seed?" James asked bemusedly, and when she nodded, he adopted a thoughtful look, glancing at her as reached her side. "Why's that?"

She smiled enigmatically.

"That's for you to answer."

He shook his head amusedly; he felt compelled to challenge her.

He leaned against the frame of the entrance door to the ballroom as he immersed himself in his thoughts. "You were born from the seeds of your parents," he glanced at her as she approached him. "Yes?"

"Er―" a pink hue flooded her cheeks as her eyes flickered about the room, "I suppose."

James frowned as he peeled his side off the frame of the door and looked at her. "Everyone is, Evans, how does that distinct you from everyone else?"

The girl huffed as a lock fell into her eyes. "How about adding a bit creativity?" she tilted her head playfully, a fond smile gracing her features. "Let's say I meant it figuratively."

James watched as the occupants of the ballroom laughed and danced with feigned merriment. "You're as beautiful as a flower." He smirked as he painted her features a blinding red.

Nevertheless, she shook her head hastily in response. Twiddling her thumbs, she keenly listened to his alternate theories.

"You're hidden like the roots of a flower."

She chuckled.

"No."

"Could I have a hint?" James asked reluctantly, feeling exceptionally inferior in intelligence. He personally despised the feeling of being wrong.

Her smile reached the leaves of her eyes as she whirled around to exit the room. And as she insinuated, James followed her, the challenge heightening his rebelliousness.

"It pertains to a flower," she hummed as she glanced subtly at him, "A specific type of flower."

"Is it – Poppy?" he snapped his fingers in response, but when she shook her head, he frowned. "Primrose?"

She laughed.

"No, and no."

"Violet? Daisy?"

"No."

"Holly? Lily?

"Yes!" she exclaimed in delight, grinning widely as he whirled to face her in astonishment.

"Lily?" He breathed in pleasant surprise.

"Yes, that's my name," she laughed, and James could have sworn he had heard merry bells chiming as he caught himself – entranced – in her enthusiasm, "Don't you see? I was born from the seed of a flower."

Now – in the outside breeze – he swam past time by observing her blinding exuberance. He studied the way the corner of her eyes crinkled when she smiled, her graceful walk, her – not too extravagant – white dress, with sleeves billowing like that of a majestic robe. The bow (he now noticed with a suppressed groan) perched on her auburn hair was the answer to her riddle: a lily; and the loose locks from her bun provided a significant contrast to her dress, accentuating how rosy she really was. Everything about her implied her explicit connection to nature, everything including her eyes, which were the pretentious leaves to her blossomed bud.

And James knew that this was the one and only.

He chuckled quietly as he shook his head to rid himself of deep contemplation. "Funny," he muttered quietly; he peeked up at the girl – Lily – with an amused crinkle near the corner of his eye. "I thought I was good at riddles."

She chuckled, in turn, and they both snapped their heads up in surprise when they heard a cry: "Lily!" They whirled around towards the entrance stairs of the outside, sighting its setting.

They caught sight of someone – a girl – climbing up the stairs with her hands clutching her skirt so as to not trip on it. When the girl reached them, Lily noticed that it was her friend and host of the party: Dorcas.

"Lily! There you are!" Dorcas exclaimed exasperatedly, panting and clutching her chest in an attempt to regain her breath, causing Lily to wince guiltily, "Where have you _been_?" she demanded, scowling at her friend, "I've been – all over the mansion―" but Dorcas lost her breath to continue.

Lily glanced concernedly at James, who was looking helplessly amused. She repressed the urge to glare at him as she looked back towards her friend. "Sorry, Dorcas, I just – went wandering off . . . I'm sorry."

Dorcas straightened up, her eyes only registering her friend's companion. Her eyes widened significantly as she caught sight of James, and James sighed exasperatedly as he asked for a private moment from Lily's friend. Dorcas nodded absentmindedly as James nudged Lily to the side.

"Well, _Lily_," James started decorously, emphasizing her name in a manner that caused Lily to wince in guilt. "Pleasure meeting you, I'm sure." He furtively grasped her hand, bringing it forward to peck her fingers.

She blushed, but her inquisitive nature overruled her judgment. "Where are you going?" Lily asked, curiosity dripping in her tone, "Aren't you coming back inside?"

James shook his head. "No, I've got to get back home," he rubbed the back of his neck guiltily. "Got work in the morning, you know."

"Right," she nodded absentmindedly, feeling inadvertently dismayed at the thought that she would never see this interesting person again.

"But we'll see each other again, right?" James smiled as he tilted his head to meet her downcast eyes. She smiled as she peered up at him with a twinkle in her eyes.

"Of course," she teased, "because we were born from the same star, weren't we?"

"Who told you that?" James said indignantly.

She smiled.

"Someone clever," she glanced towards the patient Dorcas before turning to gaze at him guiltily. "I should go."

He nodded in understanding. Lily watched as he walked backwards, saluted playfully (in which she waved decorously back), and whirled around to descend the steps. She watched until he was completely out of sight before reverting her attention to her friend, whom – she noticed – was looking quite smug, but nevertheless, pleased.

Dorcas grasped her friend's forearm as she leaned towards her to say softly, wary of onlookers. "Lily, don't you know who that is?"

Her friend frowned as she shook her head.

Dorcas's eyes widened significantly. "That's James Potter, son of the famous Charles Potter. Ever heard of them?"

Lily took the moment to study her friend meticulously, her eyes then flickering to the spot she had last witnessed the departure of the said subject. "No – I haven't," she then turned to face her friend, looking exceptionally apprehensive. "Why? Is that bad?"

Dorcas chuckled. "Not really. Don't fret on it much," she nudged her friend inside, "Now are you coming inside or not?"

Lily glanced towards the outside for a moment before turning around to her friend, who was standing against the entrance doors, looking at her curiously. Lily nodded in response, following her friend in, because, despite the conclusion, James Potter was certainly an interesting climax to her dull life.

She was prepared for a bit of spontaneity.

* * *

**A/N**: Why, hello. So this is a sort of Medieval era or Renaissance era. I tried to do as much research as possible, so sorry if there are still some discrepancies. Feel free to tell me about them, for my benefit, too. I won't get offended.

To wrap this up, hope you enjoyed another Jily fic for me, and welcome September.

Good night.

And **review**.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **After all this time? Always.

Hi. So . . . what a surprise, right? -hides- Sowwy . . .

But enjoy this Jily gift! Meet me at end of the road! Fare thee well.

* * *

A blissful evening greeted the vast fertile land. The sun, anchored down by the fundamental principles of life, sank into a defeated frown as it slouched away, travail apparent. As its compeer descended in murky disposition, the moon peeked out in weary consideration. After affirming the departure of the wicked sun, the moon soared beside the stars and beamed widely amongst its microscopic companions. Likewise, the stars twinkled merrily as they, along with their faithful companion, diverted their gaze upon a reticent character; a gallant mistress roamed the desolate lands, with, the stars acknowledged, not the slightest support.

Indeed, this gallant young mistress weaved further into the impending clutches of the forest. However, despite dubious thoughts, the forest welcomed this curious stranger. Murmuring amongst themselves, they inadvertently structured her path for her, for grace had treaded their soil. Indeed, despite the hesitance and the subtle trembling of her arm, grace seemed to bestow this floral guest with its very gift. Shifty eyes studied the curling vines of the branches, the spatter of grass beneath her feet, the majesty of the infamous forest. Half-fascinated and half-cowering with fear, the cloaked female clutched her lamp tighter as she weaved herself deeper into the vines of the forest, impervious to admiring bystanders.

Deeper and deeper she entered, vigilance amplified. The trees, sensing fear in her roots, hummed assuredly as they beckoned her towards her desired destination. Biting her lip warily, she chanced a glance behind her, and continued onward, inwardly vilifying the criminal who had coaxed her here. With every step she stole, and with every crunch of grass beneath her light feet, she gradually felt cheated, weak, and mentally fragile.

Why had she accepted this vague offer?

Huffing irritability, adjusting her cloak's hood, she continued regardless, curious at the conclusion. She hoped he hadn't been winding her up.

Consequently, Lily Evans descended further into the heart of the forest. Fellow companions joined her flight, alluring her interest. Perky birds settled on branches while whistling delightedly at this enigmatic bloom of blossom. While the strange creatures chirped merrily, Lily's fascination intricately sketched on her features. Residence of the forest, wary but intrigued, lingered behind a shield of defense, mutual fascination apparent in their exquisite eyes. Permitting a tremulous smile, one that outlined her ambivalence, she fiddled anxiously with her cloak and continued her journey; creatures watched her depart, eyes unwavering.

Lily, despite her reluctance to leave her timid company, convinced herself, albeit vehemently, to her original intentions. Patience boiling, she approached a small bench, and impervious to her surroundings, tossed herself onto it. Exhaling her irritation, she adjusted the skirt of her dress and massaged her temples. Contemplating turning back, she startled when her ears detected a slight rustle. Abruptly, she straightened from her slouched position and nearly experienced a heart failure. Anxiety pulsing rapidly, she whirled around, reached for lamp, and held it up, a light to the darkness.

And when she raised the lamp, her anxiety diminished abruptly, for, much to her relief, a familiar figure had accompanied her on this vacant earth. Despite her previous bitterness, she conceded to the persistent tug on her lip, and smiled, relief reaching her eyes.

Waiting patiently for him to acknowledge her presence, she watched interestedly as his eyes widened and a signature smirk weaved across his features as he approached from the flickering shadows. Approaching the spotlight, his mischievous smirk fused into a genuine smile as he titled his head, admiring, what seemed to him, as impossible beauty.

"Hello," he breathed, with slight difficulty. As usual, he greeted her in a similar fashion as the day he had met her; this was merely their third encounter.

Lily, smiling with a mixture of timidity and delight, studied the creature for a sign of overlooking his intentions. "Hello," she greeted decorously, a pleasant tone reserved, but her greeting was met with deaf ears.

Indeed, James besought himself rationale. Such beauty ought to be considered sinful, sinful from the leaves of the eyes to the sloping curtain framing the delicate features. Even as the cloak partially shielded her features from his ravenous eyes, he continued to admire the sanguine curls of her hair, her inquisitive expression that questioned his very presence. But James, despite requesting her, was stumped at the thought of answering her impending question.

Why _had _he brought her here?

"I was requested here," said Lily sternly, her smile fading as her frustration nagged her; in turn, she fixed an unflinching gaze upon her sheepish companion, "by a masked man, only, he wasn't quite elaborate. By any chance, have you encountered this man?"

With a roguish smirk reinforced, James feigned a hum as they walked the trail – towards where? the question lingered. "A masked man?" he hummed, watching the vines trail the trees, and yet, she lingered, ever the faithful companion, "That, I can't answer. Though, I may have encountered a flower before," when the girl raised her eyebrow in conflicting amusement, he nearly elicited a tsk, "An interesting one, perhaps. A lonesome flower that I couldn't help but take pity. I am altruistic, after all." Here, she snorted, unladylike. "Swept her off her feet, I did." He finished cheerfully, grinning charmingly.

Fiddling with the rim of her cloak sleeve, she elicited a small chuckle as she shook her head amusedly. James, in turn, ruffled his hair victoriously before she chose to interpose. "Or rather, plucked her off and throttled her." At the comment, James feigned a hand to his heart.

"Would I do that?"

But Lily disregarded his attempts at deviating away from the subject. "Why _am _I here?" she stated firmly, halting in her steps to pin him with her bright glare. "You know how hard it is for me to go against my parents. They'd hardly trust me again, if they knew where I were."

James, feeling his dread heighten, exhaled dejectedly as he threaded his hand through his uncanny hair. He had a suspicious feeling that she knew where she was treading – with precise accuracy, he'd commend her. "I know – Lily . . ." he sighed once again. Feeling an electric impulse to pace to and fro, he mitigated the temptation by sinking down on a boulder beside a lake, exacerbating his anxiety by running his hand incessantly through his hair.

"James?" Lily prodded softly, feeling guilty for exposing his anxiety. Exhaling dejectedly, the shimmering lake allured her interest for a moment before she felt a slight tug to her hand. Complying, she settled beside him and entangled their fingers into a loose embrace. "I don't mean to be a bother, James." She finished, wincing with guilt.

James, however, shook his head and refrained against chuckling in fondness.

Sighing, James, still slouched, chanced a glance at the gleam of strength beside him, and strangely, felt weak under its intensity. "I just . . ." he chewed his lip in thought. How could he tell her he had merely desired her here, perched here beside him, on his pedestal of destiny? "I needed the escape."

Lily frowned, her mind reeling with worry.

Hesitant to pry, Lily watched helplessly as he agitatedly ran a hand across his face. Feeling the need to accomplish something, she surpassed her moral obligations and chanced an experiment. "I–is everything . . . alright?" she chanced softly, her tense stance indicating an expectancy of no reply.

Straightening up, James composed himself, and breathed deeply. Then, he chanced a glance towards their linked hands before reverting to the lake. "No," he admitted, and with a knitted brow, he elaborated monotonously, "My mother reckons I've disgraced the Potter lineage." He finished with a twitch of his brow.

When James felt her hand tense, he chanced a glance towards the red-head and sighted her curious expression. To his delight, she had finally shed her hood and had exposed her auburn hair to the intrigued moonlight. With lips pursed and brows furrowed, however, she awarded him with a questioning gaze, and he nearly chuckled if he hadn't felt so bitter.

In her response to her questioning look, he said, "I haven't married yet," and comprehension flooded Lily as she glanced towards the lake, suddenly reluctant to meet his eyes; meanwhile, he proceeded to rant, impervious to her internal dilemma. "Honestly, they've been bringing in suitors since I was an _imp_, and I've _told _her I didn't need it." A rush of recklessness seized James, as he stood up, suddenly unable to sit still.

Lily, however, only faintly acknowledged her now-empty hand.

"She's always on about _tradition_," he spat out in fury, and Lily, endeavoring to structure her thoughts rationally, simply watched him pacing with a detached expression. Meanwhile, running his hand through his hair, he huffed exasperatedly, "I've told her she's rushing through this; I mean, I've found―" Here, his breath caught, and his dismal eyes lifted towards his stoic companion.

"Lily?" James prodded quietly, approaching her attentively. Curious of her stoic features and her distant demeanor, he took a hold of her hands and knelt down in front of her. Startled, Lily snapped out of daze, and strained a weak smile at the sight of his concern.

"Sorry, I just―" she endeavored to explain, but a lump had seized her throat, and she swallowed, rather abstrusely, "Sorry," she finished softly, struggling to retrieve her hands, and when she finally succeeded, she stood up. Breathing deeply, she vilified her quivering as she stated, rather stoically, "I should go. My parents, they'll be worried."

James, however, frowned at the sound of the excuse. After studying her expression for a moment, he approached a conclusion and his eyes gradually widened. Stepping forward, he whirled her by the shoulder just as she intended to flee.

"You're upset," he stated flatly. She huffed in response, endeavoring to free herself from his clutches.

"I'm not upset," she stated exasperatedly, huffing again at the sight of James's amused look; in her haste to flee, she had been prying his fingers individually from her shoulder. "James, let me be, please."

She tried, in vain, to free herself from the chains binding her, but she soon realized that they weren't chains, rather, a welcoming anchor to her wilted figure. Indeed, she remained rigid as he slithered a hand around her waist and pulled her close until their foreheads met; black locks tickled her forehead. Exhaling softly, she obstinately refused to meet his piercing stare.

"You're upset," he repeated softly, studying her quite thoroughly. Blushing, Lily chewed her lip as she slowly raised her eyes, and quite oddly, she sighted a flicker of smug about him; insulted, she nearly retracted.

"And that's amusing, I suppose?" she snapped, peering up at him with a pout. In response, James, infamous for his untimely behavior, chuckled.

"You're upset for me," he grinned pretentiously, a roguish gleam present in gold. His smug look amplified when Lily's eyebrows knitted, quite tightly, unamused. She tried to free herself from her bonds, but his arm was tightly wound around her.

"_For _you?" she scoffed, quite pathetically, and James, of course, acknowledged her dishonesty. "Never. I hardly know you." James's expression clearly implied that she could concoct a more convincing excuse. Without the slightest hesitance, he reached for an elegant curl and tucked it neatly behind her ear, in which she remained frigid.

"Is that right?" he continued his ministration with a distant look. Frowning, he sought her countenance again before he stated. "Then, I might have to accept my suitor's offer." And as he expected, she drew in a sharp intake.

"You should," Lily said firmly, with slight difficulty. James's eyes narrowed at the response, and a moment of silence befell them. Then, Lily, feeling the tense atmosphere affect her decisions, elaborated. "She's better, and richer." In midst of her frustration, she tapped his spectacles back in position, and James, with surprise, retracted abruptly.

"Is that what's bothering you?" he said with surprise. Sighting her firm countenance, he struggled to refrain a laugh, but to no avail, in which her eyes widened in astonishment. Shaking his head, he chuckled and led the bewildered girl deeper into the forest, their cloaks fluttering silently behind them. The world likewise maintained its silence, for every star was intrigued by the scene before them, a rare scene to the vacant earth.

Lily, startled into silence, allowed the strange creature to lead her into the grand forest, silent as the eyes that accompanied her. She anxiously waited for the conclusion to her worries, but she didn't receive an answer. Instead, a smile had implanted itself on her partner's features, and with a wilting feeling, she diverted her attention to the pillars around her; how serene their flock seemed, as the wind gently stroked their leaves. She found herself so enthralled in her fascination that she had halted, involuntarily, to study the scene. When James, curious, had turned to spot her distant look, she blushed fiercely, ducked her head, and followed, in which James merely smirked in humor.

"Haven't explored much, have you?" asked James, glancing to his glowing companion with his hands in his pockets. Lily, blushing further, fiddled with her cloak-hood, refraining against tugging it over her head in shame.

"Not much," she admitted; James winced in sympathy as she sighed wistfully. "My father's very protective, mind you," here, she pouted, "He likes us in close vicinity."

James frowned.

"Us?"

Lily froze at her loose comment. Eyes widened, she contemplated in trusting him before cautiously saying, "My sister and I, I mean." Wincing, she watched James's curious expression and nearly cursed herself. "We don't get along much."

James frowned as he loosened his cloak.

"Why not?"

Fiddling with her cloak, she winced as she explained, "I wish I knew, but she'd never tell me," she appeared anxious as she murmured, primarily to herself, "I haven't a clue what I've done. We were close, once . . ." reentering the world, she shook her head in an attempt to clarify her muddled thoughts, "but listen to me rant," she berated herself and chuckled humorlessly, "I'm sorry." She winced when James shook his head in exasperation.

"Why are you apologizing?" he frowned, studying her timid glance, "You're being honest, aren't you?"

"Of course."

"Then it's settled, then."

Dismissing her doubtful expression, he continued journeying, and Lily followed blindly. Biting her lip, a question nagging her, Lily studied his countenance for a sign of annoyance and found none. Satisfied, she decided to go forth with her question.

"James?"

Raising his eyebrow interestedly, he responded, "Yes, Lily?"

With feigned confidence, she said, dismissing doubts, "You . . . mentioned a suitor . . ." struggling to repress his amusement, he nodded when she glanced towards him. Breathing deeply, Lily gathered her courage and said, "D–did―I mean – you didn't like her, did you?" Reluctant green met gold and the world froze for a moment.

James, strangely, could hear Sirius snickering, and he struggled to refrain a smile; he had half a heart to fool her.

A mere half.

Humming for a moment, he exacerbated her patience by feigning a thoughtful look. Glancing at her, he caught sight of a hint of impatience before he decided to adhere to his thoughts.

"I could," he tapped his chin, a frown present on his countenance. Lily, however, appeared slightly concerned as she struggled to veil her feelings. "If I gave her the chance, that is." He smirked when her eyes widened significantly.

Humoring him, she inquired. "A chance for what?"

Smirking, he responded, "To better know her, I suppose."

Lily, detecting a hint of challenge in his tone, tilted her head up, feeling obliged to reciprocate. "I'm sure she'd be lovely."

Feigning an astonished expression, James attempted to refrain a quiver in his voice, and he succeeded, akin to an expert.

"As lovely as a flower, do you reckon?"

Suspicious, Lily studied his amused expression for a moment before she responded, albeit slowly, "Love_lier_, I suppose." James hummed.

Interesting.

"I'd disagree."

Astutely studying her reaction, he watched as her eyes narrowed irritability as she sought his motive in the comment. Of course he would disagree; her graceful mannerism, her auburn hair, her almond-shaped green eyes; these traits represented a florid disposition about her that all his suitors lacked. He had never before been as besotted as he was now; not only was she the loveliest pick in the flock, but he found himself comfortable conversing with her, be it about personal or superficial topics.

"Do elaborate, monsieur Potter. I'm beginning to think I'm the pessimist here."

Snorting, James approached a lonesome tree and leaned his back against it, tugging her hand to sit; she complied. Gone was her timidity; instead, it was replaced by fire. He watched her for a moment, simply relishing in her presence, before he chose to respond.

"Well, flowers are lovelier than humans, aren't they?" he chuckled when she threw him an annoyed look. Adjusting his glasses, he leaned towards her and persisted. "Aren't they?"

Permitting a tight smile, she answered, quite bitterly in James's opinion.

"Quite, especially better than _this _human."

James tsked.

"Don't be modest, Lily."

"I'm not being modest, _James_," she emphasized exasperatedly, "I am human, aren't I?"

"'Course not," he said so obviously that Lily blinked dumbly.

"Pardon?"

With a wide grin, he elaborated.

"Weren't you the one saying you were born from the roots of a flower?"

Lily sputtered. "Well – I – yes . . ." and a reluctant smile graced her features, and she chuckled exasperatedly. "Yes."

Laughing, smug and victorious, he ignored his own insecurity, and placed his arms around her shoulders, resting his chin on her shoulder. Defeated, she sighed exasperatedly and leaned her head against his own, watching the beaming moon with a distant look. Meanwhile, James sorted his own muddled thoughts as she drowned her thoughts in the scenery.

Finally, he piped up again.

"Lily, there's something I need to confess."

Reluctantly, he removed his arms as she suspiciously studied his guilty expression.

"What is it?"

"Er," wincing in guilt, James ruffled his hair as he proceeded to confess, "Well – er, don't explode, but―" he drew in a deep breath, "There was no suitor."

Lily blinked.

"What?"

Wincing, he repeated. "There wasn't a suitor. I mean, there had been – before, but I had turned her away months ago."

Lily straightened, her eyes blazing. Furrowing her eyebrows, she pinned James with an unwavering stare.

"Then . . ." she began slowly, her voice full of annoyance, "Everything you said―" but James interrupted her, acknowledging her misunderstanding.

"―not _everything_―"

Lily glared.

"It's all for the greater good, I assure you," James rushed; then, he frowned as elaborated, "Though the part about my mother _was _true, mind you. Just―" he winced as Lily crossed her arms disapprovingly, "Er ― not the suitor," then James, being, well, added rather pointedly, "Not that I was expecting you getting . . . envious or . . . anything of the sorts . . ." his voice effaced, with a hint of mischief.

At the last statement, however, Lily's fury fumed. "Envious?" she sputtered in disbelief. "Oh, you really fancy yourself special, don't you?" James's lip twitched as he leaned across to clasp her feathery fingers. Dismissing her furrowed brows and her pouted lips, he addressed their clasped hands with an inconsequential smirk firm on his countenance.

"No. _You _do."

Blinking rapidly, she besought rationale from her mind. Mentally vulnerable at the moment, she breathed. "What?"

Smirking, James elaborated. "Call it intuition, flower, or whatever blooms your petals, but you're hiding something from me ― _and_, fancy this: as am I." With a roguish air about him, James's confident assumptions stumped Lily into silence. She couldn't speak, and she couldn't think.

Unable to retort, Lily allowed her eyes and mind to wander off with the inhabitants of the forest. She could spot their curious eyes, questioning her decision. However, she sought desperately to convince them that she couldn't unravel her heart's enigma. She couldn't tell him how she felt about him. She was merely a peasant, hardly regal, and extremely emotional. Closing her eyes, she exhaled softly before reverting her gaze towards piercing eyes, and away from the downcast ones of the forest.

"You know," James interposed softly with his chin perched on her shoulder; she hadn't noticed. "Your silence tells me everything."

Chuckling, despite herself, she murmured, albeit distractedly.

"It's betrayed me, hasn't it?"

Smiling, he responded, with a similar tone. "Only for the greater good."

Sighing, Lily's solemn eyes flickered about the forest. She knew what he desired, and she knew what she did, too, but that didn't make confessing any easier. Ambivalent at the moment, her eyes continued to roam the forest. Much to her surprise, however, she was temporarily distracted from her thoughts. Indeed, Lily, during her dilemma, caught sight of large inquisitive eyes studying her without the merest flinch. Widening her eyes, she nudged James urgently.

"James. Look," she bid urgently, pointing towards a wise tree, which shed security on its fellow resident. "Look. Behind the tree. Don't you see it?" James squinted his eyes as he strained to identify the object which Lily was pointing towards.

"See what?" he said, bewildered. After squinting for a second longer, James, exasperated, turned towards his wide-eyed companion and urged. "What is it, Lily? What do you see?" Then, Lily, impatient, nudged his chin towards the intended spot. Bewildered, James squinted behind the tree, and inadvertently, his brows cowered behind his bangs.

Indeed, the two had been unaware of an intrigued pair of eyes watching them astutely, sagaciously, with eyes wide with curiosity. The creature was half-concealed by the bulky trunk of the tree. Timid it was, its eyes flickering to and fro between James and Lily. Strangely, Lily felt connected to the creature, as if her timidity and grace was personified in this creature. She sensed that the creature was piercing her soul and was bidding her to overcome her fright. And Lily, feeling the release of a burden off her shoulders, smiled at the doe, which stepped out bravely from behind the tree. James, on the other hand, irresistibly wondered why a doe was suddenly more fascinating than him. However, just as the thought morphed itself into a frown, a new guest had trotted in, with majesty in its wake.

Of course, the doe lurking behind the tree was accompanied by its counter-part: a graceful stag. It nudged the doe urgently before it turned towards the two humans. With a similarly inquisitive look, the stag, alert, watched the humans wisely as it deciphered their motives. When it was satisfied, it turned to nudge its partner again, and together, the two creatures trotted away, leaving behind a soft ruffle among the trees. Silent the ruffle of the leaves were, attentive; they were wary of startling the thoughts of the humans.

But the tense silence was interrupted with the soft breath of a flower.

"That was―" Lily breathed, struggling to properly decipher her thoughts, "Splendid." she finally said, jerking her head towards her frowning companion with a smile. "Wasn't that splendid, James?" Her smile weakened as she turned towards him.

"James?" She urged.

Likewise, she furrowed her eyebrows at the troubled look he had adopted. For the first time that night, Lily felt a sagacious air from his presence. Finally, similar to the stag, he snapped his head out of thoughts and met her eyes. At the sight of her concerned look, he strained a smile.

"We . . ." James breathed deeply with a crease in his brow, "We really should be getting back . . . Right?" when he looked to her for confirmation, he noticed that she was studying with a meticulous eye. He endeavored to keep her gaze, but finally, unable to withstand her insightful look, he looked away.

Furrowing her eyebrows, she breathed deeply and smiled weakly.

"Right."

Returning the smile, James stood up and reached for her hand, which she offered kindly. After thanking him, they trailed their footprints back to her cottage in silence, both entranced in their thoughts.

However, Lily, suspicious that she was cause for his unaccustomed silence, was determined to comfort him.

Biting her lip apprehensively, she began.

"James?"

Still in a trance, James responded.

"Yes, Lily?"

Twisting her lip in a manner that brought a smile to James's lip, Lily addressed the ground as she responded with a resolute tone.

"You really shouldn't be keeping secrets," and James successfully divorced his thoughts as met her determined eyes with wide ones of his own. "It isn't healthy. My mother taught me that. And she was right in a sense. You _are _hiding something."

But James, feeling his chest bubbling with amusement, stopped near a tree and leaned onto it. He simply stood with a roguish smirk as she looked anywhere but his direction.

With concealed amusement, he hummed.

"But she's right, isn't she?" James humored her, still harboring a wicked smirk. Tilting his head, he addressed her determined, yet apprehensive, countenance. "It's not healthy, is it?" With a quiet laugh, he approached her and tilted his head to address her downcast gaze. "Is it, _Lily_?"

But Lily, refusing to relent, retorted with a furrow in her eyebrows.

"I think the stag has more to say on the subject than the doe, don't you think?" Crossing her arms, she looked at him expectedly while James elicited a quiet chuckle.

"Quite contrary, my dear," he said, with a feigned charm about him, "I do believe the doe pranced after the _stag_, not a reverse in roles." His eyes sparked with mischief.

"Only because the stag coaxed her."

James merely smirked.

"Yes . . ." he feigned a thoughtful look, "But she _did _follow, didn't she?" sensing a retort, James finally silenced her with his next statement. "Almost as if she _trusted _him," when Lily scowled, he added hastily. "But, of course, I've been wrong before."

"You are now," she retorted firmly.

James merely laughed. He placed a stray flower in her bun before patting her head, as if addressing a child.

"Denial, flower." He grinned cheerfully. Oddly, he found her denial more rewarding than outright affection.

However, as he passed her to continue their trail back to her cottage, Lily's solid ice melted. She couldn't deny the truth, but she appreciated his patience with her, nonetheless. James, of course, aware of her impending question, hummed patiently.

Tucking her hair behind her ear, Lily glanced at him from the corner of her eyes.

"Then . . ." she said slowly, watching their matched pace, "Do you think that the trust could be mutual? I mean . . ." she shook her head furiously. "Will it last, that is?" Unbeknownst to him, fear gripped her. Slowly, the secrets were seeping out of porous borders.

Smiling good-naturedly, he responded, rather optimistically, in her opinion.

"I don't see why not?" with amusement, he furrowed his eyebrows, "Why? Do you detect a hindrance, Evans?" To her comfort, he maintained a pleasant and playful tone that she was grateful for. Even if the situation was far beyond her comfort level.

"Well," she hesitated for a moment before her tongue betrayed her. "She is quite absentminded. Not like other . . . does." she trailed off at the sound of his laugh. Startled into silence, she watched with a slight frown as the insensitive being rubbed his tearful eyes underneath his glasses as he laughed.

After he finished, he grinned at the sight of her irritated look.

"I was relaying one of my deepest fears to you," mumbled Lily, her arms crossed and her lips pouted.

"An irrational fear," he responded cheerfully, watching her from above the rim of his spectacles, "if I may say so myself."

Lily scoffed.

"I'm sorry, when were fears ever rational?"

"Irrational," he waved his hand dismissively, "Unnecessary. A foreign concept to me, Evans. Aye, but we ought to be dancing around this, ought we not?" His good-natured disposition never perished.

"Beg your pardon, good sir," she apologized, her tone mocking, "The _doe's _fear, not mine."

"Forgiveness granted, good lady," the Marauder feigned a bow, his eyes feverish, "Though, I must admit that the maiden's fear is far more interesting than the doe's. Enhances a man's character, it does." He then straightened with a roguish air about him.

Lily, however, despite his pleasant mood towards her, was baffled.

"Then, you're implying that the _doe _gave the stag its purpose?"

"Beg your pardon," he said decorously with a furtive smirk, "I forgot we were speaking in riddles."

Lily rolled her eyes in amusement.

"You were always rubbish at riddles."

"Shall I state it bluntly, then?" with quiet intensity, he outstretched his chapped palm as she descended from a steep hill. With a visible frown, the maiden, with reasonable suspicion, allowed herself to guided without protest to the unanswered question; she feared that, if she asked him to elaborate, he would answer her, as he said, bluntly, and she could speculate how blunt the answer would be. But she didn't desire the answer. Instead, she followed his pace as he led her across a narrow stream; the maiden, still enveloped in her thoughts and speculation, absentmindedly crossed the stones leading across the stream but lost her footing and was nearly buried in the water had he not steadied her.

"Lost your footing, Evans?" he asked, with a smug twinkle in his eyes. Furious by his smug mannerism, she snatched her arm and proceeded to follow him across the stream.

"Oh, you really fancy yourself special, don't you?" she said displeasingly. His grin simply exacerbated her anger.

"Only to you, my dear," he responded confidently as he strode cheerfully ahead, as if the night was young, and he, too, was sharing that youthful carelessness. With a furrow across her brows, Lily glanced back curiously at the stream they had passed through and found, to her surprise, that the stream reflected a beaming twinkle as the water flowed. As she glanced around to identify the source, she found that the heavens reflected a similar beam, as the sun peeked out from the horizons. Lily found herself entranced by the sight and, despite the light indicating that she had been outdoors far beyond the limit, she found her worries had mitigated. But as she heard James's exasperated cries, she reluctantly tore herself away from the serenity and beauty and accompanied her uninvited companion. Snorting, Lily realized she could hardly equate the beauty of nature with love for him.

Lily halted in her steps.

Love?

Although outwardly, she scoffed, her hearts had surrendered; Lily could hardly deny this anymore. She didn't know what her heart had found in this arrogant, conceited young man. Perhaps it had found a concealed part of him appealing, a part that she couldn't logically comprehend. Perhaps in the vast oceans, her heart had found a glittering pearl, a small but significant pearl that twinkled when introduced to a beaming lamp. Perhaps she shouldn't dwell on this matter for long, or else she would submit both mentally and emotionally to this generous young man. Perhaps simple gestures such as an outstretched palm or a source of guidance had attracted this naïve soul to this layered young man. With a swelling heart, Lily breathed deeply as she submitted to her heart's desires. Indeed, she submitted her will, but what then? She could hardly convince herself of these stirrings, how could she verbally confront him, then?

She wouldn't, Lily decided realistically, she was far too cowardly.

With a heavy heart, Lily recommenced her pace; as she heard the fallen leaves and branches crunch under her feet, she couldn't help but look down to verify that the crunch was indeed from leaves and branches and not from her own heart. As she finally reached a clear area, she startled when she noticed her own cabin, which James was leaning against. To her relief, she found that her mother had not awaken for the front door of the cabin was sealed shut; her mother often awoke to check the garden, but Lily's mother was nowhere to be seen. Eliciting a sigh, she started when she heard a chuckle, and when she looked up, she identified James as the source.

"What's amusing?" she asked half-curiously and half-defensively. But James simply shook his head with a twitch of his lip as he leaned away from the cabin. Then, he shrugged as he approached her.

"You are," he stated bluntly while staring out into the distance, "You're very strict about being caught." Without meeting her eyes, he sensed her frown of disapproval but didn't smile or meet her eyes.

"And you aren't," she retaliated in defense, "_That's _strange."

He grinned at the response, but he didn't meet her eyes.

"We don't seem to agree," he hummed interestedly; then his grin reached his eyes as he stated good-naturedly, "Perhaps we _aren't _compatible."

At the response, Lily began to fiddle with a fallen strand of hair, her heart racing to confront him. This was her chance to prove him wrong.

But her tongue became arrogant and refused to appease her heart. "Perhaps," she breathed weakly with a sinking feeling. She was, most assuredly, a coward. In midst of her dismay, she hardly noticed his smug expression at her response. Her answer had confirmed everything that he had suspected.

With his chest puffed out pompously, he adjusted his cloak around his shoulders and drew forth his hood before turning to bid farewell to the lovely maiden. To his persisting amusement, he found that she had regained her stance with a startled expression.

"Alas," James exclaimed dramatically, "I have fulfilled my duty. I have brought the maiden home safely," he stated with a wink; she simply furrowed her eyebrows, still in a state of shock, "I shall bid my farewell, young maiden. We shall meet again." He concluded this with a dashing smile and a confident stance about him that Lily couldn't deny him another time together. As a result, with a trembling and timid smile, she nodded politely to him, not denying him another chance. In turn, he flashed a beaming grin as he waved at his soon-to-be ending.

"Farewell, my dear," he yelled, a tad louder than she would have preferred – with her parents slumbering in the cabin, "May the stag and the doe, once again, be reunited!" To his relief, she elicited a soft chuckle as she waved with a brief shake of her head.

"Perhaps forever, someday?" Lily's heart spoke verbally – chivalrously and unexpectedly. Both the doe and the stag halted briefly by the words spoken – with James in mild shock and Lily, perhaps, a bit too accepting. But then, a gentle smile flashed as he nodded acceptingly; he wasn't expecting her to be confront him, but he suspected that these words were hidden.

"Until death do them part," he stated solemnly. Then, he grinned once more, playfully saluted before fully turning to disappear into the horizons. Lily found, quite startlingly, that a stream had formed in her eyes and that it reflected a beam as the sun ascended high above the trees. The doe had found beauty and serenity buried deep in her heart. It had been present ever since a young, arrogant, and conceited young man had rudely confronted her in midst of her musing of the hundreds who had attended the detested outing. She allowed the stag to guide her, to protect her, and to lead her, and she surrendered willingly as she sought what her heart had been chasing.

She had fancied her heart naïve, but now, she realized that her heart was ever sagacious.

Until death do them part.

* * *

**A/N: **Okay, I hate apologizing, but to those who reviewed and favorited/followed: I'm **sorry.** I didn't know I'd fall in love with this story, so I decided to continue it with this oneshot. I have such a passion for literature and fantasy and the reviews for this simply motivated me to continue. It's been a year, and all my stories (two H/G oneshots and Trouble is a Friend oneshot _and _a Prolonged Encounter oneshot _and _another Jily oneshot) have been nearly done for nearly a year since I've disappeared. I literally have to write the endings for all these chapters, but I simply don't have the motivation.

Look, if you like this oneshot, _please_ leave a review because that's what motivated me to continue this oneshot (even if it's a year late, sowwy). I won't promise that I will end this one because I might get back to it, but for now, I'm finished with this one.

Let me add that, if I have ever promised that I will not continue a one-shot or story that I have published, I will likely break my promise according to my mood (I am ridiculously Bi-Polar).

But please, **review**. I need motivation.


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